Secretive Santa
by Partners In Fanfic
Summary: A (late) Christmas oneshot chronicling the three presents Reese gave this year, and the one present he received.


_**DISCLAIMER: AS USUAL, I DON'T OWN PERSON OF INTEREST**_

**A/N: **Hey there! So this story is based on CBS's holiday commercial (with our favorite, Reese, and the caption "Secretive Santa," if you haven't seen it)...Once I saw it, I knew I couldn't resist rejoining the writing world and typing something up. Well, I ORIGINALLY wanted to publish this story on Christmas Day, but real, holiday life got in the way and this was the soonest I could actually get anything done. Anyway, hope y'all had a GREAT holiday season and are out partying it up this New Year's Eve (instead of sitting at home like me)! Here's to a great 2013! -EAJP

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**1. **

Finch squinted suspiciously at the neatly wrapped present in his hand. When he arrived at the library earlier, he had found it setting on his desk, right in front of the keyboard. The gift was from Reese, no doubt. No one else even knew the location of the library – well, no one currently living. The older man highly doubted that Corwin had come back from the dead just to make amends.

Finch frowned. He had given Reese the day off with explicit instructions to _stay away_ from the library. After all, it _was _Christmas, and Finch wanted to ensure that they both used the day to take their minds off work, if that were even possible. Even he only stopped by to give Bear a walk.

But apparently, Reese ignored his instructions (no surprise there). Carefully tugging at the ribbon, Finch began to unwrap his present. He extracted a small, black box from the paper and examined it curiously – it couldn't be a weapon, much to Finch's relief. Without further hesitation, he took the lid off the box and pulled the tissue paper aside, revealing a pair of modest, silver cufflinks.

Finch couldn't stop the smile from appearing on his lips as he held the cufflinks up to get a better view. They were square and pure silver, save for a diamond embedded in the top right corner of each fastener. The bespectacled man paid special attention to the diamonds – only after a very close inspection did he deem that Reese _didn't_ plant any kind of bug behind them. Without giving it further thought, he took his own cufflinks off and replaced them with the new ones, grinning satisfactorily at how they fit on his shirt.

Of course, he didn't need to know that the minute he clasped them on his cuff, the GPS trackers Reese installed in them activated and sent a signal to the younger man's phone.

After all, it _is_ the thought that counts, right?

**2. **

As he left his ex-wife's house, Fusco scowled at the white flakes floating down from the sky. He always hated to give up time with his son, but today it hurt worse than usual. Instead of spending Christmas in his living room, watching his kid play with the new video games he had to work overtime to pay for, he was spending it in the precinct, working the shift no one else wanted to work.

With a sigh, the detective threw open his car door and slid onto the seat, already dreading the eight hours ahead of him. As he reached for the key to the ignition, he took notice of a white envelope setting on his dashboard.

That was odd. He picked up the envelope and turned it over in his hand. There was nothing written on it, and as he opened it, he worried that HR decided to give him another job to do. It was either HR or Mr. Happy, because no one else was audacious enough to sneak into his car on Christmas Day.

When he pulled out two courtside Knicks tickets, he knew it was the latter. "Son of a bitch," Fusco muttered to himself, "He snuck into my car to give me a _gift_."

Fusco didn't know why he was surprised. He didn't even bother glancing around to see if Reese was still there – he knew better than to think that Mr. Happy would stick around, or at least stay where he could be seen.

Knicks tickets. Fusco grinned broadly to himself. For a minute, he considered running right back up to his ex-wife's door and showing them to his son, but he quickly realized that there was no good way to explain his sudden acquisition. Plus, on the off chance the Suit was still lurking in the shadows, Fusco didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him excited for once.

So, the New Yorker contented himself with tucking the tickets into his jacket pocket and making a mental note to complain a little less the next time Mr. Happy needed something done. Just a _little_ less, though – wouldn't want him to get too comfortable, after all.

**3.**

Carter kicked off her shoes by the door and let out a sigh of relief. While she loved dinner at her mother's house, especially on Christmas Day, she was glad to be home. Holiday dinners always reminded Carter of her rather depressing relationship status (dates with Beecher didn't necessarily _count_ yet). Plus, on the rare days Carter actually had time off, she liked to spend it in her own home, sweat-pant clad and glass of wine in hand.

Taylor wormed his way past his mother and headed off to his bedroom, presumably to set up the new laptop she bought him. The detective laughed to herself and went to her own room – she knew she wouldn't be able to pry him away from that thing until at least New Year's Eve.

She padded to her dresser to grab her sweatpants and almost missed the brightly-wrapped present right in the middle of her bed. Carter did a double-take. She didn't forget to bring anything with her to her mother's, and Taylor most certainly didn't go in her room. Police instincts kicking in, she checked her window for any signs of break-in before finally giving in to the urge to open the box.

Pulling off the wrapping paper and the lid, Carter gasped at what lay in the tissue paper. It was the red, silk Dolce & Gabbana dress she had seen in a store window uptown while helping John.

John. Of course it was him. The infuriating man that he was, he probably heard her gush over it quietly to herself and tracked down a security camera to see what caught her attention. And then he bought it for her. And put it in her bedroom. Just to prove a point.

While Carter would love nothing more than to arrest John for breaking and entering, she had to admit that the present _was_ thoughtful. And she _had_ wanted the dress for quite some time.

"Alright, Batman," she muttered, a hint of mirth evident in her voice, "I'll let the felony go this time."

The sweatpants she was so eager to wear laid forgotten in her dresser as Carter gave into her girly desire and tried on the dress, which fit like a glove.

Carter smirked and reminded herself to let John know that if the whole vigilante thing didn't work out, he'd definitely have a career in fashion to fall back on.

**4.**

Reese decided that he didn't like days off. Respecting Finch's wishes (for the most part), the ex-operative spent the day doing what he thought normal people would do – wandering around midtown, shooting a few baskets, going for a run. By three o'clock he had run out of things to do and went back to his apartment, resolved to not have another day off for at least another year.

He just finished cleaning his gun for the ninth time when he heard a knock on his door. Quickly reassembling it, he took the weapon off safety and crept toward the door.

"Come on, John," a familiar voice called out, "Put the gun down and answer the door."

Reese quickly tossed the gun on a nearby table and opened the door. "Hello, Zoe," he said smoothly, hoping to hide his chagrin.

The smirk on her face let him know that she didn't miss the blush. "Merry Christmas."

Reese almost forgot it was a holiday. "You could have just called, if that's all you wanted to say," he teased.

Truthfully, he should have been a little more than a tad disconcerted that she had found out where he lived. But he was so bored, he was willing to welcome the distraction without giving it much thought.

The fixer held up the bottle of scotch that was dangling between her fingers. "Actually, came to give you your Christmas present. Didn't have time to wrap it."

Reese allowed a smirk to form on his lips. "How thoughtful," he replied, accepting the bottle from her, "Your present must have gotten lost in the mail."

Zoe knew he didn't buy her anything and laughed. "How about a poker game to make up for it?" she asked, finally getting to the actual point of her visit.

"You read my mind." Reese stepped aside and handed the bottle back to her as she walked past. "How about you pour the drinks and I get the cards?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Zoe took off toward the kitchen and Reese strode off in search of his poker set. Maybe, he thought as he heard the sound of glasses clinking, days off weren't such a bad thing after all.

Merry Christmas indeed.

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**As always, reviews are love and coffee.**

**And, as I said before, Happy New Year, everyone! Here's to another year filled with friends, fun, and more amazing POI episodes. **


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